


The Darker Path

by underestimating_daisy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-09-11
Updated: 2012-03-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 22:45:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underestimating_daisy/pseuds/underestimating_daisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if it all worked out differently? What if the ending to the story only blew open a book to the first chapter of a new life? Jim finally decides to let Molly in on a little secret and gives her a choice. Where is her path headed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic that's been in the works for A LOOOOONG time. I'm pretty bad about updating it. :x It was written pre-season 2 and therefore major events are changed and it's just a nice lil'AU. So, have at it and let me know what you think. Feedback is a huge motivator. ;D  
> cross-posted from ff.net.

"Ello Molly! I won't be over tonight. Family emergency. Sorry for the last second cancellation, dear! I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Oh Jim, you're always cancelling on me," said Molly to herself out loud, looking pitifully down at her answering machine. "I hope everything is alright. I guess it'll be another night in, Toby." Her cat, Toby, stared at her meowing in reply.

With a sigh and a shrug, Molly went off to put on her pyjamas, make some popcorn, and put in a DVD. Another relaxing night home, and probably one of her last.


	2. Chapter 2

A rapping at the door awoke Molly from a deep, dreamless sleep. When she opened her eyes and saw the DVD menu on the telly screen she realized that she had fallen asleep during her movie. Toby was curled up at her feet and her popcorn bowl had spilled. More urgent knocking on her flat door pulled her fully out of her groggy state. She glanced at the clock on top of the telly, noticing that it was 3:38AM. "What the… Who on Earth could that be?"

"Molly! Let me in!" yelled a most familiar voice. Knowing the voice immediately, Molly rushed to the door. "Bloody locks…" Molly mumbled as she struggled to undo the chain locks Jim insisted she should have installed for her safety. 'Don't want my Molly-doll coming under any harm,' he'd told her as he screwed them to the door.

"Molly!" yelled the voice behind the door.

"I'm here, I'm here!" Molly exclaimed as she finally undid the third and final lock. She swung open the door to a sight that caused her to take a step back. She gasped and put her hand to her mouth. "Oh Jim…"

"Hello, Molly-doll. Might I come in?" asked Jim with a smirk that contrasted the rest of the way he looked. He was wearing a suit that once was probably very nice but was now tattered and covered in ash, dirt, and what was very likely blood, his hair was disheveled and there was a gash on his forehead that still appeared to be bleeding.

When Molly didn't immediately answer, Jim entered anyway. He knew Molly wouldn't mind, she never really minded. A weak, dull, unintelligent woman he'd thought when he'd met her at St. Bart's hospital. That had been the ultimate reason he'd decided it was safe to use her to aid him in his plans to get to the one man who could ever stand in his way. Whenever he thought though about the quick summation though, thinking her dull and witless, he felt something he very, very seldom felt. Guilt.

He went straight to the window and peered out from between the blinds. "I doubt very much that I was followed but it never hurts to be sure," Jim said aloud, more to himself than to Molly. The street below was calm and quiet. There was a rushed sound of the wailing of sirens off in the distance. He was safe, just as he always was.

"Jim…" Molly was still standing by the door seemingly immobile.

"I need a shower. I assume the gym bag I accidently left last time I was over is in your room, probably atop your dresser?"

Molly nodded. That nod seemed to rouse her from her shocked stupor. "Jim, what happened? Why are you bleeding? You need to let me look at that cut. You may need stitches. Did you hit your head? You might have a concussion. What happened?"

Her sudden barrage of questions sent Jim into an even darker mood. His targets had escaped and he didn't need questions or lectures right at that moment, especially not from little Molly Hooper. He had grown quite fond of Molly but there are just some things that no one should have to put up with in a time like that, and Molly's incessant chatter was certainly one of those things.

When she approached him to look at the gash above his brow, he stepped away from her. The look on her face was a mixture of confusion and hurt. Jim couldn't hold back his sneer at the display of such weak emotions. Molly took this as a wince of pain, however. "You really should let me look at that. It seems that the bleeding has slowed considerably but it still may need suturing up."

"Ha! I'm fine Molly. Plus, there is no need to scar this lovely face of mine," Jim said with a sincere smile. Jim's vanity never really bothered Molly until recently, but she pushed doubts and negativity out of her mind and chose to view it as making light of a dark situation.

"It'll scar worse if you just leave it," Molly replied feebly.

"I need a shower and then I'll let you look," said Jim, giving Molly a kiss on the forehead.

"Jim, please tell me what happened."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Jim quickly strode to the bedroom door. Before closing and locking it he looked at Molly, an incredulous look shown across her delicate features, and simply said, "Molly, please."


	3. Chapter 3

Jim grabbed his clothes out of the gym bag and went straight to the bathroom. His phone had been buzzing constantly since he'd left the pool, even though he'd explicitly stated not to contact him, no matter what happened or where he ended up. His associates should know him to be more competent than to get caught.

Despite his annoyance at this, he decided to check his phone.

M, where are you? Targets 1 and 2 escaped. Police already on scene. – Seb

"What a bleeding idiot!" He expected the others to fail to follow orders but not Moran.

On inspection of the other notifications the caused his phone to buzz, he'd missed 3 calls from Moran and several texts from other associates, all along the same lines of the first text. "No one can take orders anymore. I must remember to give them more memorable instructions next time, if there is a next time for some of them," he muttered to himself.

He then turned on the hot water and let the steam creep around him, breathing it in deeply. He centered himself and considered what his next move should be.

He'd left the pool with intentions of going to the scheduled meet up location but he found himself now inside Molly's flat. He wasn't entirely sure what possessed him to come here, perhaps it was an unconscious decision, and Molly may be of some more use to him.

Originally, Jim had only intended to play Molly's boyfriend to get to Sherlock, that first crucial meeting in the morgue. He'd penetrated Bart's long before as an IT genius but Molly seemed to be the final piece to the puzzle. So he asked Molly out for coffee. It wasn't too unpleasant, like much of the time he spent with her from that first date to tonight. It wasn't the most stimulating task he'd ever taken on but he made up for that putting Molly through little tests, tests of character. She'd shown far more promise than he had expected. The tests were mostly for his entertainment but sitting in the steamy bathroom, head clear, and options running a bit low, he considered asking Molly to be an accomplice. Well, it'd be a bit more than that but her promise and connections would certainly prove useful in the future.

The thought of having Molly by his side through his endeavors, helping him construct the perfectly customized crimes, and eliminating the few complications he would ever run into made him excited. The sudden feeling of happiness at the idea of having a woman in his life shocked him, even if was a woman like Molly, sweet, kind Molly Hooper with her untapped angry genius. He didn't need thoughts like those right at that very moment so he pushed them aside, hoping to forget them for now.

"A long, hot shower will clear my mind," he said out loud. He got into the shower, ready to consider his options and think things through.

Meanwhile, Molly was pacing in front of the sofa muttering to herself. "What has he gotten himself into? I'm sure it is safe to assume that that has nothing to do with family problems. Why was he so distant about it? Was it me, something I did?" In the midst of her distracted chatter and pacing she'd walked into her popcorn bowl and stubbed her toe. "Damn!" She bent down and picked up the bowl and cleaned the spilled popcorn.

"I bet a little telly will calm me down," Molly said looking at Toby who lifted his head, looked at her, and then went back to sleep. She grabbed the remote and switched on the television. Before her movie she'd been watching the news so that was what popped on. "No, no. News is not quite what I had in mind."

An explosion tonight…

Channel switch

It took a moment as Molly channel surfed but when the three words finally sunk in, she gasped and quickly flipped back to the news. There was a live shot of a building on fire. At least, what was left of the building. The news headline read Pool Explosion and the reporter was saying something about the Scotland Yard being on the case but knowing nothing of what caused the explosion yet.

…speculation of a serial bomber. Some are saying that it is another gas leak, but other are saying it is just too coincidental…

Molly had stopped listening because she had spotted a grey haired man she recognized from the morgue as Detective Inspector Lestrade standing in front of the open doors of an ambulance. The camera had panned out to a wide shot and Molly was looking at the destruction when a short blonde man walked up to Lestrade, or limped rather. Molly knew who it was instantly and knew who he usually followed around. Her heart sank, "Sherlock…"

She sat there staring at the screen wondering what on Earth John Watson was doing there and praying it wasn't Sherlock in the ambulance. John looked pretty beat up, even from such a far off camera angle. She knew that he and Sherlock liked to help Lestrade with odd cases but maybe this time he'd gone too far and hurt himself.

Molly knew better than to care as much as she did but it was a little out her control. She was with Jim now and had for the most part, gotten over her thing for Sherlock but she had known him for a long time and did care for him. He was reckless and she figured one day he'd hurt himself. She shook the thoughts away knowing that if there was a serious problem, it was being taken care of.

She continued to watch the news report. It was a terrible sight and she began to agree with the people assuming someone sinister was behind this. She just couldn't fathom why anyone would want to do such terrible things.

…the explosion happened not so long ago, around 3 am. There are currently no eye witnesses or leads. Scotland Yard is already working to try and resolve this bizarre explosion. If anyone has any information…

And then, it finally clicked. Molly may have not considered herself overly observant, or any sort of detective, but she certainly wasn't stupid. She could make connections when all the clues were there.


	4. Chapter 4

Still sitting on the couch, horror-stricken, Molly heard the door to her room unlock and felt the sudden rush of warm, steamy air into the room as Jim stepped out of the bedroom. He walked over to the couch, sat down next to Molly, slipped his arm around her tiny shoulders, and kicked his socked feet up on to the coffee table.

"Sorry for being so short with you earlier, love. I was just a bit stressed and my head hurt. Speaking of which, I took a look at the cut and it is nothing to worry about. I bandaged it up using the first aid kit under the sink. All better, see?" He gestured to the bandage that now adorned his forehead.

Molly looked at Jim, seeing how calm his face was shook her to the core. Her thoughts were racing. 'Do I confront him? What if I'm wrong? What if I'm right? What would he do to me? He'd probably just lie… But I can't put up with any more lies or deceit from anyone…'

"What's the matter, darling?" Jim asked, "You look so upset." He stroked her cheek, genuinely concerned, wondering what could have bothered her so much.

"Jim…" She began but she couldn't do this, not so close to him, in his arms. She stood abruptly, startling him, and walked to the window nearest the sofa.

"Molly, what is wrong?" Jim asked again, a little more urgently.

"Did you cause this?" Molly questioned, gesturing to the television, the coverage of the explosion still being shown. "I need to know, and don't you dare lie to me!" Molly said, raising her voice, something she rarely ever did.

"Molly, what are you goi-"

"Don't. Lie. To. Me." Molly stated, a dark edge to her voice that convinced Jim that he should indeed let Molly in on his secret and give her an opportunity to broaden her horizons.

"Alright, but you have to listen to all I have to say before you make any decisions. Come, sit back down and listen," Jim patted the cushion next to him but Molly shook her head and remained by the window, arms crossed.

"Fine, we'll stand," Jim walked over to the window to stand by Molly. They were standing close and Jim went to touch Molly's arm but she took a step back. Jim sighed and began.

"I never intended this, you and I, to go on for very long. I only needed to play this character to achieve what I needed so I tapped into a part of my personality I don't use very often. This has obviously given you an incorrect impression of me. As you very well know, IT isn't my day job. I run a sort of… Assistance service. People come to me and I solve their problems, a consulting criminal some refer to me as. So clearly I am not the man you may have perceived me to be, at least not most of the time. So, to answer your question, yes, that explosion was my doing, as were the flat explosions."

"But why? " Molly blurted out in a burst of terrified frustration. She was having a hard time processing the fact that the person she thought was a kind and caring man was actually a criminal mastermind.

"Because Molly, I'm so clever and I get bored so easily. The criminal consolation is a brilliant way to showcase just how smart I am, and it does wonders to cure boredom. As for the bombings, it was just a little game and fair warning-"

"A GAME?" Molly shrieked, "You're sick."

"I know," Jim smirked to himself while Molly looked on dumbfounded. "It was what I consider a game, but more of a warning really, a warning that was directed towards a fellow intellect to get him to back off my trail. Can't have anyone in my way and it'd have been a shame just to eliminate him."

"Who?" Molly inquired, morbidly curious about whom Jim considered his intellectual equal.

"Oh, you know him, dear. You kind of worship him. Something you and I have in common. But tonight he showed me just whose side he wants to be on. It's a shame really, what a waste of a clever mind…"

"Who?" repeated Molly, refusing still to believe that this man she thought she had known decently well was now a total stranger standing in her home, a stranger out to kill Sherlock Holmes.

"Come on Molly-doll, we both know just how clever you are, you know who I mean. You probably figured that out a while ago. You're actually pretty observant; you need to be for your job after all. Observant and really smart, this is why I want to ask you to join me, help me. Be my sweet and spicy Molly Hooper. I would teach you all you'd need to know about secrecy, how to craft the perfect explosive, how to move about undetected, everything! You could help me and finally get all the respect you deserve."

"Are you mad? I'm no criminal, I can't kill people and bomb things!"

Jim grabbed Molly's hands and held them in his own. When she didn't move away, he looked down at her and said, "I'm not asking you to do either of those things, that wouldn't be your responsibility. I'm simply asking you to be my right hand, an extra mind. I know you're generally a decent person and I could use that perspective. I don't mean to frighten you off either. I'm am not really a very 'kind' person but Molly, the man I was around you is the man I will continue to be, you will just have more glimpses of who I am when I'm not around you. You make me feel things I've never felt and Molly, I don't want this to end. I won't harm you and I'll continue to treat you just as I have been.

"I'm sorry for using you, Molly. I do admire you and I want you to be happy. I want you to have the respect and recognition you deserve and with me, I can guarantee this. I'm leaving the choice up to you though."

Jim wanted to beg her to say yes. He hated it because he was so used to getting what he wanted no matter how anyone else felt but he couldn't force Molly into this. He knew that if he forced it, she'd never be happy or cooperative. She would fight it with all her strength because even though most others saw Molly as a quiet, passive woman, she was actually quite stubborn and passionate when the situation called for it. Traits Jim found not only admirable, but also very attractive.

Molly hadn't looked Jim in the face since he'd started talking but at that moment, she did. What she saw in his eyes was far more human than she expected. She knew she shouldn't trust him, this madman she let into her life simply because he laughed at her jokes and told her she was beautiful. But she couldn't help being tempted by his offer. Perhaps it was her secret desire for recognition and power or perhaps she was being foolish. All she knew was that ever since childhood she'd wanted people to envy her, looked up to her, do as she told them. Molly has pushed these strong urges aside because her upbringing had taught her that nice girls go far so that is what she tried to be, and she was a nice girl but a nice girl that wanted more from life; she wanted the life she knew nice girls just didn't live.

Molly kept looking up at Jim, lips parted trying to will an answer from her mouth. Jim could read on her face how close she was to agreeing so he told her one last part of the deal he'd worked out.

"You wouldn't have to leave your old life completely. I know you enjoy your work at Bart's and your friends, although I couldn't imagine why…. But I digress. You have all the potential to be wonderful at keeping secrets and I trust you. We'd have a bit of working out to do but it'll all be alright. Staying in your old life could prove useful but all this can be worked out later. Right now, all that is important is that we come to an agreement. Hopefully one we can both walk away from happy, happy and together."

Molly removed her hands from Jim's and walked over to the sofa, sat, and put her head in her hands. "I don't know…" Jim sat next to her and placed his hand on her back, trying to comfort her.

"You don't need to decide now. You sleep on it and I'll have someone come by and pick you up tomorrow around 10. We'll meet up at a secure location so we can discuss this in person."

"We can't talk here?" Molly asked, the stress of her decision ahead showing clearly on her delicate face.

"No, dear," Jim said, an understanding smile spreading across his face, "I doubt it would be wise after I tried to blow up the Yard's beloved Sherlock Holmes. They might be snooping around here and I don't want to put either of us in an unnecessary situation."

"Yes, true," Molly sighed.

She followed Jim to the door after he'd gathered his things. She just looked at him knowing full well that she should be terrified of this horrible man that was standing in front of her but she couldn't shake the feelings of admiration she still had for him. Even knowing just exactly who he was, she still liked him and the temptation in his offer was overwhelming. 'Perhaps I am just as mad as he is; I suppose I always suspected it…'

Jim stood watching Molly as her brow furrowed from deep thought. "Molly, I hate to interrupt, but I really must go."

"Oh, sorry, sorry…" She mumbled as he pulled her into a hug. A flash of fear went through her but passed quicker than it should have. She let him pull her in close and she hugged him back. He kissed her on the top of the head and when the embrace ended, he left.

After re-doing all the locks, Molly walked to her bedroom and plopped down on the bed, thoughts racing through her mind. 'What am I doing? I shouldn't even be considering this… I can't believe I'm considering this. I suppose I couldn't deny this dark monster inside of me forever… What am I going to do? I'm nice, he isn't. I'm a good girl… He is just lying to me for some reason. He seemed so sincere though, but madmen can fake that… He just didn't seem to be faking…'

She groaned and attempted to get comfortable. Sleep was going to be completely impossible, there was just too much to think about. In a few hours, Molly would make a decision that either way, would change her life forever.


	5. Chapter 5

"Molly! Miss Hooper!"

Banging on the door brought Molly out of her sleep. Shooting straight up out of bed, a sick sense of dreadful deja vu running through her, she raced to the door and unlatched the locks. Upon opening it, it was not a soot covered Jim that stood there, but a tall man wearing an all-black suit. He was wearing sunglasses and what appeared to be an ear piece, a bit like the way secret service men that surround the president of the United States are depicted like in movies.

"Jim has asked me to pick you up."

Molly continued to stare at him until he cleared his throat uncomfortably. She wasn't ready to make her choice; she hadn't had enough time to fully grasp the enormity of the decision. Despite this fact, she let the man inside. "Uh, just let me get changed."

"Yes ma'am. I'll just wait out here," and he took a rigid stance by the door.

Molly walked into her room and picked through her closet as slowly as possible, brushed her teeth longer than usual, and took her time on her hair. She made every feeble attempt to drag out her final few minutes in her safe and familiar flat. She needed those moments to continue considering the consequences of the choices she had in front of her. She felt like she'd been backed into a corner. Say yes, become the mistress of an evil genius but say no and she might not live to see her next birthday, or maybe it wasn't as cut and dry as that. She couldn't be sure when dealing with this man who was now a total stranger to her.

"Miss Hooper we really must go, we've got a schedule to keep," came the man's voice from the position he'd kept near the door. Molly began her walk out of her room when a gentle knocking came from her door. She stopped in her bedroom's doorframe and just stared at the dark suited man. She couldn't see his eyes but she could tell he was worried.

"What's your name?" she urgently whispered at him as the knocking continued.

"I don't see why that matt-"

"Just answer the bloody question!" Molly shrilly whispered at him. She motioned for him to take off the sunglasses as she got closer to him.

"Henry," she stated. Now that Molly could see his eyes, she could see the fright and confusion in them. She pulled out his ear piece and began to explain.

"Alright Henry, here is the deal – you're my cousin visiting from the south. Your mum is ill and you've come to ask me to come and help you take care of her. She's got the flu and you're unfit to deal with it because you're too busy with your job. Now go sit on the couch and try to look comfortable." Molly then began to unlatch the door. "I'm here, one moment!"

Opening the door, Molly's heart sank to her feet. There, ashen faced and tired looking, stood a man Molly recognized as Detective Inspector Lestrade, and behind him stood a woman with wild curly hair that Molly didn't recognize.

"Ah, Detective Inspector, how can I help you?" she managed to choke out.

"Well I'm sure you've heard about the explosion down at the pool and Inspector Donovan and I just have a couple questions for you."

"Um, do you think you could come back another time? I've got family here and we're about to go to breakfast and…" Molly opened the door wider so Lestrade could see Henry sitting on her sofa, feet propped up on the coffee table while flipping channels. Good actor, that one, she thought to herself.

"It'll only take a second and we really need this information now," injected Donovan curtly.

"Uh, yeah," started Lestrade, glaring at Donovan, "we won't take much of your time."

Molly sighed deeply and let them inside. "You can have a seat, do either of you need anything?" she inquired politely.

"No thanks," said the pair in unison. Both of them continued standing, looking as uncomfortable as Henry had only minutes earlier.

"Hullo," muttered Henry, with a slightly altered voice, as the two people passed across the TV onto the other side of the living room.

Molly excused herself and scuttled into the room holding a teacup, desperately hoping neither officer would question Henry and whatever questions they did have would take little time.

"So, um, you knew Jim Moriarty?" Lestrade asked, seeming unsure of his words.

Molly choked on the tea she'd been sipping and nodded.

"Do you know his current whereabouts?"

"No. I haven't seen Jim for a couple days. We were supposed to meet yesterday but he left me a voice mail telling me he wouldn't make it. I haven't heard from him since," she stated coolly, sticking as close to the truth as possible.

"Ah. Well do you happen to know where he'd go if he were trying to avoid… Uh, trying to hide?" Lestrade began to appear more and more uncomfortable and Molly could not for the life of her understand why. He was supposed to ask these questions, this was his job. Why is it suddenly so hard for him to accomplish?

"No, what's going on? Is Jim alright?" Molly feigned worry, surprising herself at how well she did it.

"I'm sure he is just fine…" muttered Donovan.

"We believe he may be responsible for the bombing last night and the other bombings that have been occurring lately."

"Oh my word," Molly put her hand to her mouth, but decided to pull it away immediately. She had no desire to over act. "That is terrible. I just… I don't believe it." Molly looked down into her tea cup.

"Come'ere Molly, it's alright," said Henry walking over to her and patting her on the back. She looked up at him shocked, and he just smiled down at her. She turned her shocked expression at Lestrade and he smiled sadly at her. "This here is my cousin, good egg she is. Whoever this Jim is, he sounds like the kinda person Molls would avoid so I don't think she's got any information for yah."

Molly nodded and said, "I'd no idea, I'm sorry I can't be more help."

"No, you're right. I'm sorry Miss Hooper. We'll let you know what we find out," he said to her as he and Donovan headed towards the door. "I'm sorry we had to deliver you this shock with your family here. Just go out and enjoy your breakfast. Let us know if you hear from him and if you don't, we'll be in touch."

She led them out, still feigning shock. As soon as the door had shut and she was confident they were far enough down the hallway out of earshot, she turned to Henry and said, "Thank you."

"No problem, but we've really got to go. I've gotten 12 texts from the driver and I'm certain Jim isn't going to be pleased that we're late," Henry placed his sunglasses back on his face and opened the door for Molly.

"Yes. I suppose you're right," and she allowed him to lead her out of the apartment building and into a black car with tinted windows. She sat in the backseat alone and got lost in her thoughts immediately.

She would be in the presence of a madman in only a short time and she still didn't have any sort of answer for him. No answer and no certain future, something Molly didn't know if she could handle.


	6. Chapter 6

The car had been driving for quite a while among the morning traffic and Molly was certain that they'd been turning circles, but she tried not to focus on the driving. Instead she closed her eyes and imagined two paths – one dark and mysterious and the other… The other obvious and filled with corpses to be autopsied. Molly opened her eyes and sighed. It really wasn't a hard choice for most able minded people but apparently Molly wasn't as able minded as she thought.

"Miss Hooper?" Henry said from the front seat, pulling Molly from her thoughts.

"Please, call me Molly."

"Uh… Alright," he said, turning himself around in his seat awkwardly so he could face her. She looked at him and saw fear in his features. "Molly. I don't think you should agree to Moriarty's deal. He isn't the man you think he is."

"Peterson! What the hell do you think you're doing?" shrieked the nameless driver. "You think he doesn't have this car bugged? You're mad; he'll have your head for interfering."

Henry looked at the driver with determination on his face. "Well you know damn well I didn't want to be dragged into his web but here I am and the only way out is death. It'll either be by his hand or the cops and I'd rather not die in jail cell."

"Yeah, better a dirty warehouse and dumped in the Thames. More respectable that way," the driver scoffed but quieted down, just concentrating on driving.

Molly observed this exchange wearily. "Why would risk your life just to tell me what to do?" It came out a bit harsher than she'd intended but she was suddenly more frightened. This man she'd only met this morning apparently was taking some risk to warn her, this clearly wasn't a good sign. He desperately wanted out of Jim's company, why would she want to join it?

"Molly, I know he promised you a safe life, a life where all you'd be is his pet but that's the point! You'd be his pet. Sure he'd take care of you well and treat you nice but it's all a game. The man's a psychopath. You'd just be another pawn in his game, another object. And he doesn't treat his things very well in the end." Henry looked at Molly with such seriousness, it made her turn away.

He was absolutely correct – Jim was a psychopath. He was charming and sweet, but only when he needed to be and he didn't mean any of it. He didn't care about Molly, he needed her as an in to get at Sherlock.

But there was still a small voice in the back of her mind telling her that maybe it didn't matter. She didn't really matter much in this life anyhow. She had never accomplished anything significant and never caught the attention of anyone, except Jim. Sherlock never treated her kindly so what was it to her if Jim used her to get to the bastard? She didn't matter to him so why she he matter to her?

Molly squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out those thoughts. Those were horrible, evil things she was thinking and she knew she didn't mean it. She HOPED she didn't mean it.

She turned back to Henry who was still looking at her from the front seat, his eyes trying to convince her where his words hadn't. She sighed and said quietly, "Thank you Henry. You're right… But maybe I'm not the kind of woman you think I am."

He opened his mouth to speak again but a sharp look from the man behind the wheel deterred him. Henry gave Molly one last look and then turned around. He sat like a man who had tried his hardest but had been defeated.

She buried her head in her hands. Really though, what else could she do but say no? There may have been something inside of her capable of letting go of inhibition and responsibility and decent human thought but that part felt too small to amount to anything for very long.

Molly looked back out the window only to notice that they'd gone in another circle. She looked up into the rear view mirror and said, "You can stop dicking about now, I'll close my eyes and you can just take me wherever we're going." And close her eyes she did.

I must have fallen asleep, she thought to herself because it felt like only minutes after that exchange that they were slowing down and stopping in front of what appeared to be an abandoned cottage. From the outside it looked worn down, weeds growing up the sides of the building and dominating the front garden. It looked pretty unremarkable; the perfect place for a clandestine meeting.

Henry and the driver excited the car. The man who had been driving the car looked much taller when he stood and walked with a limp. He walked up the walkway and through the door as Henry helped Molly out of the car and up the same walkway. He led her through what probably once was the sitting room, now just an empty and brittle, back into a hallway. At the end of the hallway was one single door, painted completely black, standing out harshly against the chipped white paint of the surrounding walls.

Henry walked Molly down to this door and opened it for her. As she passed through she realized it wasn't painted black but was actually a solid black metal door. Inside, the room had no windows and appeared to be paneled in the same black metal as the door. A single light illuminated the room. It hung from the ceiling over a folding table with two chairs and a pitcher of water, two cups beside it.

"Well this is all a bit cheesy," Molly said to Henry, the fear ringing clear in her voice. He looked down at her sadly and said, "Sit at the table and Moriarty will be here in a moment." He then exited the room.

After Henry left three other men dressed in the same way he had been entered, the third man shutting the door behind him. Molly looked at them, but they didn't look at her.

She sat carefully on one of the chairs. A few minutes passed and Molly began to fidget nervously with her watched. She didn't want to be here anymore. She was frightened and what seemed a bit like a dream was now more real than she could handle.

A few more minutes passed and Molly looked at one of the men and asked, "When will Jim be here?"

The man looked back, his eyes invisible through his absurd sunglasses, and simply said, "Sit and wait."

So she sat. She waited. But time was passing too slowly to please her.


End file.
